


Domesticity Suits You

by Avery72



Category: British Actor RPF, Richard Armitage - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:06:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery72/pseuds/Avery72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble about domestic life with Richard Armitage.</p><p>Or "Richard does mundane things in a typical/boring way." Because as fabulous as he is, he still has to put his trousers on one leg at a time.</p><p>Warning: I'm a little bit of a potty mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I'll openly admit that I highly romanticize Richard Armitage as the pinnacle of perfection. I've written countless (unposted) ficlets about Richard as the hero of the universe with infinite wisdom, strength, and kindness; but I think it's about time I imaged him doing normal things like normal people.
> 
> I'm using the same characters from my other RA fic ["Hearts"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3389282) (I like recycling characters because I'm not creative enough to constantly create new ones), but reading "Hearts" is not necessary to understanding these drabbles.  
> 
>
>> Dramatis personae:  
> Richard Armitage  
> Dr. Avery Nguyen = Richard's wife, cardiologist  
> Dr. Clive Winslett = Avery's best friend, cardiothoracic surgeon  
> Lee Pace = Richard's best friend  
> Landon Kelley Armitage = Richard's and Avery's son  
> Dr. Sarah Chesteen = Clive's wife, OB/GYN 

"Fucking fucking fuck!" Richard shouted as he banged his shin against the open drawer.

"For fuck's sake!" I shouted back. "I've been on-call for 72 hours. Let me sleep."

Richard rubbed his wounded appendage and flipped the lights on. "How many times do I have to tell you to close the drawers? All the way closed!" As if to emphasize his point, he shoved the offending drawer closed with a bang.

I pulled the bed comforter over my head and screwed my eyes shut, willing myself to go back to sleep. 

"No, no, no, no, no," Richard said as he ripped the comforter away from me and dropped it on the floor at the foot of the bed. "If I'm going to have a miserable morning, so are you."

I grumbled and curled into a tight ball at being fully exposed to the cold air. I huffed, "I hate you."

Richard shrugged and ambled off to the bathroom. "If you closed the fucking drawers, then you wouldn't have a reason to hate me," he threw over his shoulder.

I opened my mouth to shout back an obscenity and that me leaving open the drawers I most often used had never been a problem before. But the words shriveled in my mouth when I realized why it had never been a problem before. Even though Richard and I lived in the same apartment, we hardly lived in the apartment at the same time. Richard was usually away for filming or press conferences; I was simply addicted to my job and spent more time at the hospital than at home.

"Well," I said to myself, "since I'm up, I might as well make the most of it." I quickly made the bed and wandered into the kitchen. I wasn't much of a breakfast person, but I knew that Richard was. I started the coffee machine and threw a few slices of bread into the toaster. I pulled open the refrigerator door to grab a few eggs and groaned at the sight of the milk stored in the door. I moved the milk to the back corner of the fridge, where it belonged.

"Don't store milk in the door," I chided Richard when he emerged from the bathroom, still a little damp and shirtless. "The door is the warmest part of the fridge and is subject to frequent temperature fluctuations. It'll go bad and make you sick."

Richard plucked out a slice of toast, covered it in butter and jam, and shoved it in his mouth. He poured himself a cup of coffee with the toast still half-hanging out of his mouth. "You don't get sick from it," Richard said after he settled at the counter and swallowed a large bite of his toast.

"I don't drink milk, remember?" I said with a slightly miffed tone. "Lactose intolerant."

"Right." We both knew that Richard knew. But sometimes he couldn't help the words falling out of his mouth before he caught himself and sometimes I got tired to having to tell him I couldn't eat dairy. I placed the plate of eggs on the counter in front of him and handed him a fork. Richard gave me a small nod in thanks and started eating. But instead of loitering around for small talk, I sought out my mobile phone to check email.

I didn't look up from my phone until I heard Richard shuffling around the house, searching for something. He was brushing his teeth as he searched.

"Richard, you're going to drip toothpaste everywhere."

He said something I didn't understand.

"What?"

Richard pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and did his best to enunciate. "Do you know where my notebook is?"

I sighed, but didn't move. "I can't tell if you have early-onset Alzheimer's or if you just that unorganized."

He said something I didn't understand.

"Just finish getting ready!" I shouted when I saw a little stream of toothpaste and saliva leak out of the corner of his mouth. I gave him a dismissive gesture with my hands. "I'll look for it."

Just as I located the small, black notebook under a considerable stack of books, Richard yelled, "Why do you feel the need to reorganize the damn closet every time I leave?"

I didn't respond to the question. I had a weird quirk of re-organizing the closet space every few months; it was because Sarah and I were always swapping clothes and because I needed to discreetly find space for Clive's clothes for when he stayed over after long shifts. Richard didn't really mind the constant re-organizations since he wasn't home that often, but he still got frustrated when he couldn't find a pair of socks. I pretended to still be searching for his notebook to avoid having to explain my new organization scheme.

When I handed Richard his notebook, he was sitting down on the chair we kept by the door; even though we didn't speak about his solid arrival in the middle-age range, we both knew that it was easier for him to tie his shoelaces sitting down than bending over. He stood up, I helped him put on his jacket, he slipped on his backpack, and I opened the front door for him.

"Have everything you need?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"I take back what I said. I really, really love you."

"I know." Richard leaned down and gave me a kiss. "I really, really love you, too."


	2. Gingham and Cigarettes

"As if we need to give the paps more reasons why we're secret gay lovers," Lee said as he stood up to embrace his friend. He and Richard were wearing relatively matching outfits: red gingham shirts and dark-wash jeans. Whereas Lee has a slightly more disheveled appearance with his distressed jeans and flip-flops, Richard was more posh with his shirt tucked in and his brown belt matching his brown oxfords.

"Like Avery says, it's not true friendship until you make everyone else think you're gay for each other."

"Where does your wife get these nuggets of wisdom?"

"Are you suggesting that she's not inherently clever?" Richard replied with mock offense.

"It's not laced with expletives, so it didn't come from her originally."

Richard shrugged. "Clive, I guess. With the shit the two of them get up to, I'm surprised Earth hasn't cracked in half."

Lee re-settled into his seat, with his long legs crossed and his feet propped on an empty chair at the next table over. "I hope you don't mind, but I was presumptuous enough to order for you. Since you were running late." Lee grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter from the tabletop, where they had been resting next to his mobile phone. He lit a cigarette, then lazily took a drag before offering the pack and lighter to Richard.

Richard had quit smoking in his mid-thirties, when he realized that it wasn't easy to act very physically demanding roles when his lungs were constantly protesting. But that didn't mean he didn't sneak a cigarette or two every so often, particularly in the company of his best friend, Lee Pace.

Richard lit one and sighed with contentedness as the smoke filled his lungs. "These are good."

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their cigarettes.

"So... how have you been doing?" Richard finally asked. It was an awkward transition from silence to conversation, but it sufficed. Richard and Lee met up for lunch about once every six months, when they had breaks in filming. It was always hard for them to begin, but once they started talking they fell into a comfortable familiarity.

"Not too shabby."

The men ate their lunch and swapped stories. Everything from finding a great pair of shoes to frustration at script changes to politics to the challenge of press conference travel to spending the holiday with their families.

Lee snubbed out his second finished cigarette in the ash tray. "I met someone."

Richard waited for Lee to continue, but when he didn't, Richard prompted, "And...? What's she like?"

"She's wonderful," Lee replied. He had a glazed-over look in his eyes and Richard wondered if he had the same besotted look when he first started dating Avery. 

"Well," Richard said when Lee finished his soliloquy about how the starscapes paled in comparison to her beauty and the sun shone out of her ass. "All I have to say is that I hope that she's as wonderful as you make her sound. You know Avery's not easily impressed; this wouldn't be the first time she chased a potential suitor away from her second-favorite tall, lanky man with a weird nose."

Lee threw his head back and laughed. He remembered the first time he brought a girlfriend over to the Armitage's for dinner and Avery flat-out interrogating said girlfriend. Said girlfriend felt that if dating Lee meant being regularly bullied by Richard Armitage's wife, then maybe their relationship wasn't meant to be. Lee made a mental note to warn his new love interest before taking her to meet the Armitages.

"Anyway, I'm very happy for you," Richard added.

"Thanks. I think I might wait a little longer before introducing her to Avery, though." Lee lit a third cigarette and a took a few drags before asking, "Want a second one?"

Richard shook his head. "Nah, but thanks. We both know that I let it burn more than I smoke it." Richard took a final drag before snubbing the cigarette out. "What do you think tomorrow's headlines will say?"

"Huh?"

"Of gingham and cigarettes: Pace-itage is Hollywood's favorite secret gay couple."

"Why are you thinking about that?"

"As soon as Avery finds out we wore matching outfits, she's going to want to bet on what tomorrow's headlines will say. I'm brainstorming with you now so I don't lose."

Lee winked back at his friend. "Should we make out? Just to really give the paps something talk about?"

"My wife is going to kill you for suggesting that."

"Your wife is going to kill you out of jealousy at how good the make out was."

"Shut up."

"Don't be angry because it's true."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Please remind me why we're best friends?"


	3. Laundry

"I don't understand how this happens," Richard groaned as he examined the disaster that was our laundry.

Or the disaster that was his portion of the laundry.

"How does what happen?" I asked.

"How people like you can even exist. You have a fucking medical degree and you still haven't figured out how to do laundry properly."

I had carelessly thrown things that shouldn't be washed into the washer, and things that definitely shouldn't be dried into the drier. About half of all of Richard's sweaters had shrunk to my size, which was a minor victory for me if we looked at the silver lining. And all of Richard's dress pants were now capris, ending an inch above his ankles.

I sighed and put the medical journal I was reading down, but didn't bother moving from the couch in the living room. "Put all dark colors together; put all the light colors together. Put soap in and start the machine. If there's any bodily fluids on my scrubs, then they don't leave the hospital."

Richard narrowed his eyes at me. He was too frustrated to say something, in case he said something that he would later regret. "Just... just never do laundry again."

I shrugged and returned to reading my medical journal. "Okay."

"I can't believe you."

I shrugged again. I wanted to make a snide comment about Richard and his fancy clothes with specific directions about washing, but I knew that I really should have taken more care. "Borrow some clothes from Lee for now and you can go shopping later. At least you'll have fashionable pants for spring?"


	4. Gardening

It was June 25th, the first morning of summer.

He dressed in a worn-out t-shirt, trackies, trainers with holes, and a faded baseball cap. He hummed to himself as he leisurely mowed the lawn, uprooted weeds, and watered his plants. He caressed the leaves of the plants that flourished and whispered encouragement to the roots of the plants that didn't flourish quite as well.

Richard loves nature; the way the wind sighs through the trees, the way flowers arrange themselves into bursts of color across a field, the way the earth smells after a light rain. But more than all of that, Richard loves to nurture things and watch them grow.

Richard chuckled and shook his head at the memory of his first potted plants. An ex-girlfriend had given him several potted plants as an indirect measure of how nurturing a father Richard could be. Richard had accidentally killed them all by over-watering them and over-exposing them to the bleak London sunlight. Since then, Richard has learned to curb his over-obsessive nurturing tendencies. Now, everything Richard cared for, literally or figuratively, thrived.

A weasel sat on it's hindquarters a few feet away and regarded Richard curiously. Richard set down his spade, held out his hand palm up, and made gently cooing noises at the small mammal. Richard's smile broadened as the weasel took a few nervous steps towards him. But then it suddenly changed its mind and darted away.

Richard chuckled to himself again, surprised at his sense of disappointment that he didn't get to pet the wild animal. He leaned back on his heels and sighed with contented relief. His joints ached, particularly his knees. The back of his neck was sun burnt. He had dirt stuck under his fingernails. He was covered in a thin, sticky layer of sweat. He was a little disappointed that the rows of flowers he was planting weren't straight or evenly spaced, but he was still excited to see how they'd look in a few weeks.

This was exactly how he imagined his quiet life to be: smelling like sweat and dirt at the end of a summer's day. No one asking him for favors or demanding he fulfill some obscure a part of his contract. No one to put airs and appearances on for.

Yes. It was a good day.


	5. Sleeping Positions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure Richard enjoys a good cuddle, but I don't peg him as a snuggler in his sleep.

The first few times they slept together, they were a tangle of limbs. Their bodies were pressed flush against each other, as if they would meld and become a single, massive unit of flesh. But they would wake up uncomfortably in the middle of the night, sweating profusely due to the furnace that was their combined body heat. Or they would wake with numb limbs from being pressed so tightly together.

The next few times, they spooned as they slept. Richard enjoyed the way she perfectly fit into all the crooks on his body; he enjoyed the sense of protection he provided to the woman he loved even in sleep. But spooning didn't solve the problem of the overwhelming heat and numb limbs. However, it did solve of the problem of who owned which side of the bed; Richard liked sleeping on the left.

Sometimes they would sleep on their sides facing each other. Their knees would touch, their ankles would be entwined.

But more often than not, she would curl on her side facing away from Richard. Richard slept like the dead: stretched out on his back with his hands clasped on his stomach. The only contact they shared was the small of her back pressed gently to Richard's hip. But that was the only contact they needed, just enough to know that the other was there.


	7. Bedtime Stories

Richard checked a quick glance at Landon. Richard chuckled at himself, seeing his son curled up against his side and sleeping peacefully; he had been so absorbed in reading  _The Hobbit_ aloud he had forgotten the actual purpose of him reading the book. Richard figured Landon had probably fallen asleep ten pages back and appropriately placed the bookmark there. (Avery had berated Richard for years about how only demon spawn dog-eared book pages, until he finally relented and used bookmarks.)

Richard's heart warmed at the realization that his life had come full circle. His father reading  _The Hobbit_ to him, then being in a stage production of  _The Hobbit_ as a pre-teen, then being in a massive film production of  _The Hobbit_  as a middle-aged man, and now reading  _The Hobbit_  to his own son. _  
_

Richard carefully slipped out of the small bed and tucked Landon in. He leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead. "Dream of Thorin, for me," he whispered. (Landon's favorite character was Gandalf because he claimed it reminded him of his mother. But Richard had an obvious, very special place for Thorin in his heart.)

Richard switched off the lamp and slipped out the door. In doing so, he almost tripped over Avery, who was sitting on the floor with her back pressed flush against the wall. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms at her sides, and her eyes closed.

Richard gently nudged his wife with his foot. "Avery?"

Avery extended a hand into the air towards Richard and he helped her up. "You know," she whispered to him as they walked down the hallway to their own bedroom, "Before Landon was born, I used to listen to your audiobooks over and over just so I wouldn't feel lonely. Played them over the stereo and pretended you were in the next room."

They climbed into bed and Richard spooned his wife. (They liked to do this for a few minutes before falling sleep on their respective sides of the bed.)

"I had no idea," Richard replied. He kissed Avery on the back of her shoulder, at the base of her neck. He remembered the roughest period of their relationship, when they had spent eight months apart. (They were functionally strangers. Their schedules were so horribly matched that even when Richard was home in NYC, Avery would be scheduled overtime at work or at a conference. Once in a while, they could coordinate a brief phone call.) "I'm sorry that I made you feel lonely. I would have recorded a few extra for you."

"And have you do more work?" She chuckled. "All I wanted was for you to finish your work as quickly as possible and come back to me."

Richard responded by pulling Avery closer and tighter to him. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I think my favorite was the one with the all the love poetry. I like to imagine you thinking of me when you were recording." _  
_

"We hadn't even met when I did that."

"You had to be thinking of a woman, real or not, you loved with all your heart when reading that. I ended up being the woman you thought of."

Richard chuckled and kissed Avery on the back of her shoulder again. "I love you."

Avery turned her head so she could kiss Richard properly on the lips. "I love you, too," she said before extricating herself from her husband's arms.

"I love you more," he replied as settled himself into a comfortable position.

"Oh, shut up. We're not having this argument like hormonal teenagers in their first relationship."


	8. Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Richard! May you be blessed with excellent health and happiness/satisfaction in all aspects of your life! (And all the chocolate ice cream you could ever eat, obviously.) Lots of love from a well-wisher who sincerely admires all your work, but has a special place for Lucas North. Cheers!

"You know," Avery said pointedly as she turned her face towards Richard, "there is a reason why married men live longer than their single counterparts."

"Hmm?" hummed Richard as he rolled onto his side to face his wife. He propped his head on his hand. "And why's that?"

"Because their wives make them go to the doctor!"

Richard rolled his eyes. This was the not first time they had that discussion and it surely wasn't going to be the last. But he had hoped that she would let it drop for one day, especially on his birthday. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't see your primary care doctor! Get a check-up, get some blood work done, and do some preventative screening. I don't want to get a surprise phone call that you have prostate cancer when you're on the other side of the globe."

"I'm not going to get prostate cancer."

"That's not the point."

"I know, I know."

"Do you really?" Avery asked. She frowned at Richard; he noticed that it was more stern than normal. "Today is your birthday. Which is a stark reminder that you're not getting younger. And annual screenings are highly recommended for men your age."

Richard sighed and replied, "And here I was hoping the reason that married men lived longer was because the sex is good."

Avery laughed bitterly. "Let's not pretend you don't have erectile dysfunction."

"I do not!" Avery simply raised an eyebrow at Richard. "Sure, Viagra makes the sex better, but it's not like I have an actual problem," Richard continued. "For fuck's sake stop giving me that look!"

"I'm surprised you can tell, considering that you also refuse to get your eyes checked. We both also know you squint at everything." Avery rolled out of bed and padded into the kitchen. She felt her frustration approaching it's extreme limits and knew she needed some space before she lost her temper.

Richard laid on his back for a few minutes after Avery left, staring at the ceiling. He knew that his wife was legitimately concerned about his health; not because she was doctor, but because she sincerely cared about him. And with a little over a decade already between them, she wanted to keep Richard around for as long as possible.

"I'm sorry," Richard apologized as he followed Avery into the kitchen. She was standing over the sink, one hand supporting her weight and the other hand holding a mug of tea. She was staring out the window, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry," he repeated as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Just promise me you'll go, okay?"

"Yes, I promise." Richard kissed her on the top of her head. He placed his hands on the crest of her hips and firmly massaged the muscles of her lower back with his thumbs.

"There's some dark chocolate ice cream in the freezer," Avery said after taking a sip of her tea. "I took the time to stick the appropriate amount of candles in it."

"Won't I get diabetes from eating it?" Richard teased. "You're so inconsistent, nagging about my health one minute and them trying to kill me the next." Richard felt Avery tense under his hands and realized that she was still too upset to find the teasing funny. "Thank you. You're the best. I love you."

"I love you, too."

\---

"I'm back!" Richard called out as he let himself into the house. He slipped off his shoes and dumped is wallet and keys into the bowl next to the door. "The doc confirmed I am a very healthy man!"

"Good!" Avery shouted back. "Be there in a minute!"

Richard loitered in the living room, checking emails on his mobile as he waited for Avery. She stopped in her tracks and her lips instantly pulled into a smile when Richard looked up at her. "What do you think?" Richard asked, turning his head left and right. He was wearing his new glasses, which his ophthalmologist told him that he only needed to wear when reading small print or driving.

"Reminds me of Lucas North as a Russian billionaire."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It's very sexy."

"The doc also gave me a prescription for that thing that I don't want to admit I have." Richard leaned forward and kissed Avery. "I took the liberty of filling it and popping a pill on my way home."

"Oh, really?" Avery asked, a coy amusement in her voice. She wrapped her arms around Richard's neck, pressed her body flush against his, and looked up at him through her eye lashes.

"Really, really."

"We should see if it works, yeah?"

"Let's." He kissed her again.


	9. Chapter 9

"Dad?" Landon asked. "Are you and Mom getting divorced?"

I choked on my tea. I knew Landon had been brooding over something the past few days, but that particular question had taken me entirely by surprise.

I gave my son a good look. He looked like I did when I was his age, a bean pole with a nose he hadn't grown into. But thankfully, the majority of his inherited features came from his mother, including her intellect and critical thinking skills. His features were entirely serious.

"No," I said as evenly as I could. I set down the script I was reading on the coffee table and pushed my reading glasses to sit on my forehead. I clasped my hands in my lap, leaned slightly forward, and asked, "What makes you say that?"

Landon nervously glanced at his feet before meeting my eyes. "Well... David's parents are getting divorced. He said they argued all the time and didn't talk to each other for long periods. And... you and Mom are... You know... kind of the same."

I held back a sigh of relief, now that I understood where Landon's concern came from. I patted the empty space next to me and Landon sat down next to me. I gave him a sideways hug. "No, no. I promise that Mom and I are not getting divorced. I love her dearly; I would move earth, heaven, hell, and everything in between to keep her at my side."

"Then why do you fight all the time?"

I chuckled. "We don't fight, exactly."

Landon gave me a quizzical look.

I shrugged. "Mom likes to argue and debate things. Fighting has a quality of anger and malicious intent, a quality of violence. You also have to remember that Mom just isn't the gentle type of person, so it can seem like she's fighting with you when all it is, is that she's just very invested in a discussion."

Landon considered it for a moment, then nodded.

"And every relationship is different. Mom and I are very independent-type people; we don't need constant displays of affection in order to know that we love each other. For us, it isn't about where the other person goes, but so long as they come back home. And we both know we'll always come home."

"Okay..."

"You'll understand when you're older." I ruffled my son's hair. "But Mom and I are not getting divorced."

"That's good," Landon replied. "I don't know if I'd be able to pick which one of you I like better."


	10. Maybe This is How We Met

Richard almost tripped over his own feet when he saw the woman walking with her arm linked with the film director’s. She was almost doubling over in laughter at something he had whispered in her ear.

“Careful!” Lee said when he noticed Richard’s stumble from the periphery of his vision. He burst out into laughter when he realized that Richard had been distracted by the woman on the other side of the large studio. Before Richard could ask who she was, Lee supplied, “That’s Mark’s cousin, Avery.”

“What?” Richard sputtered out.

“I don’t know what’s confusing about what I just said. That woman you literally can’t stop staring at is Mark’s literal cousin.”

“No, no,” Richard replied, “I understood. I’m just surprised.”

“Well that just makes you a shit friend. Mark's been talking about her all last week, about how excited he is for her to come visit.” Lee crossed his arms over his chest. “Want to meet her?” Before Richard could respond, Lee shouted and waved, “Mark! Over here!”

Richard’s eyes bulged out in terror for a second, before he did his best to pull himself together. He cursed himself for wearing the shoddiest clothes he owned. He nervously ran his hand through his hair, in a feeble attempt to tame it.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Mark asked as he approached, Avery still hanging on his arm.

Lee grinned wickedly. “Richard just wanted to meet your cousin. Wanted to see if she's as hot as you described her.” Lee winked at Avery, who blushed at the compliment and exaggerated a coy look up at Lee through her eye lashes.

Mark lifted an eyebrow at Richard, noticing Richard’s evident distress. But it was replaced with an expression of amusement. “Richard, this is my cousin Avery Nguyen. She’s staring a new job here in NYC next week; so she’s just to be hanging around set with her favorite cousin.”

Avery playfully punched Mark in the shoulder. “As if that last thing you said was remotely true.”

Richard hastily wiped his hand on his trousers before offering it to Avery. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Avery smiled sweetly back at Richard. She shook his hand. “The pleasure’s all mine. I’m quite a fan of your work.”

“I’m thrilled to hear that! But since you’re on set, you’ll actually get to see me in live action.” Even though he hated how cheesy that sounded, Richard just went with it.

“I look forward to that,” Avery replied.

Richard didn’t know what to say back, so he simply looked back at Avery in silence.

“Well, then,” Mark said clearing his throat to break the awkwardness that had settled over the small group. “Stay out of trouble and we’ll see you after lunch.”

“I’ll see you around.” She said over her shoulder.

As soon as they left, Lee punched Richard in the shoulder. “Way to go! That was impressively awful.”

Richard glared at Lee. “Shut the fuck up.”


	11. Whoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a funny, little snippet.

It's one of those things that you never forget. It's quite hilarious in retrospect, but at the time I wasn't laughing.

I remember that she nudged me awake in the middle of the night. "Richard," she said in a low, urgent voice, "Richard, wake up. My water just broke."

I mumbled back, "You what?" I didn't even bother to open my eyes or to lift my head from the pillow.

She repeated, "My water just broke. You need to take me to the hospital because I'm having a baby."

 **I'm having a baby.** Those words sent me into a total panic. I was instantly out of bed and pulling on the clothes I had specifically picked for this moment.

For the past two weeks, I had been preparing for this moment. I had an overnight bag already packed for Avery. I had a list of everyone I needed to contact to meet me at the hospital. I also had a list of everyone that needed to be contacted once the baby arrived. I already knew the fastest route to the hospital. I perfected the argument why we were NOT going to name our son Landon.

In theory, I was prepared 150%.

I was so prepared that was I almost out the door when I heard my wife call from the bedroom, "So I'll just see you there?"

In my excitement, I got lost in all my plans that I forgot about the most important person: my wife.


	12. BFF Approval Test

[Avery, Richard, and Clive are midway through dinner at an Italian restaurant located near the hospital Avery and Clive work at. This is the first time Richard and Clive have met each other, despite hearing Avery talk about the other incessantly. There is some awkwardness as Richard wants to impress Clive, but the evening has gone well overall thus far.]

 [Avery's cell phone rings.]

Avery: This is Dr. Nguyen. [Pause.] What did you say his BP, rate, and rhythm were?

[Avery excuses herself from the table with an apologetic smile and mouths, "Sorry." Clive waves her away, understanding what it's like to be on call.]

[A few seconds after Avery disappears from their sight, Clive focuses on Richard with a tight frown. Clive's eyes are narrowed and Richard can tell he's being judged harshly.]

[Richard feels doubly uncomfortable as he realizes that Clive had been pretending to be polite the entire time. There is no doubt in Richard's mind that Clive doesn't like him. He swallows a lump that has formed in his throat and shifts in his seat.]

Clive: [flat tone] What are your intentions?

Richard: [confused] Excuse me?

Clive: What exactly do you want from Avery?

Richard: I'm... [rubs hand over mouth] not sure I understand the question.

Clive: Don't be obtuse. [Rolls his eyes.] A movie star like you doesn't exactly settle down with a woman like Avery or in one place for very long.

Richard: I don't know what to say that will satisfy you. [Moistens lips with tongue.] I really like Avery and I hope that we can make this relationship work. But, unfortunately, you can't guarantee these sorts of things. I will do everything I can to make it work, but sometimes that's not enough.

Clive: [leans forward across the table, aggressive] If I get the slightest hint that you've broken her heart, I will murder you. And I know how to make it took like a cardiovascular accident. Understand?

[Richard nods slowly.]

Clive: [stares at Richard for a few more seconds.] Very good.

[The two men snap back into a casual ease as they see Avery approaching.]

Avery: Did I miss anything? [Takes a seat. Curiously looks back and forth between the two men; she can tell something happened.]

Clive: [shakes head] Nope. Just told Richard stories about the inconvenience of being on call.

Richard: [nods in agreement] Yes. Doctor's lives aren't what they're shown to be like on TV. Not nearly as glamorous.

[Avery still senses the palpable tension between the two men.]

Avery: [sighs] You both are shit liars. Clive gave you the "I will end you" talk, didn't he?

[Both men avoid her direct gaze and don't respond.]

Avery: Richard, look at me. [Reaches out and places a hand on his forearm.]

[Richard meets Avery's eyes.]

Avery: I honestly don't know why Clive does that. I know it comes from a place of love, but if you break my heart, I will end you personally. If anything, Clive will help me hide the body. [Smiles at Richard.]

 


	13. The Time They Almost Called it Quits

She blinked once. Twice. Then she turned away from Richard. She bit on the knuckle of her left index finger to keep herself from crying.

"I'm sorry," Richard said softly. He reached out to her, but stopped himself right before he touched her. He left his arm drop to his side. "Please, understand. I love you, Avery. I really, really do. But sometimes... Love alone can't save our relationship."

Even though she had noticed their growing distance for the past few months, she held onto the hope that things would get better. They were very career-driven people and she expected that sometimes they would make each other a second priority. Despite knowing this, she was too stunned to make a scathing counter-argument, like she normally would. Richard took her uncharacteristic silence as agreement. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. "So... what happens now?"

"I have to ask you to move out."

She nodded.

"Take as much time as you need."

"Okay." She stood there for a few moments. "What's her name?" Avery asked; her voice cracked and she hated herself for it.

"Claire."

 _Claire Daniels_ , Avery scoffed internally. _Of course._ _I should have figured he would have fallen in love with the gorgeous blonde co-star. He spends 10-15 hours with her every single day. She makes up for all the things I lack... And then some. But I do appreciate that Richard is telling me this now, instead of letting me find out via some tabloid._

Avery forced herself to put a smile on her face when she finally turned to face Richard. "I hope she gives you all things I couldn't. I wish you all the best, Richard. I really do." She gave Richard curt nod and walked past him, not wanting to hear a response.

Richard lifted a hand to cover his mouth. He knew that break up with Avery after three years was going to be hard, but he didn't expect it to hurt this much. His heart shattered into a thousand different pieces at the sight of such a strong woman looking so frail. She still carried herself with shoulders straight and like she was in charge, but he saw the hurt and disappointment and betrayal in her eyes.

\---

The last thing Avery expected was to see a slightly sickly-looking Richard sitting on her doorstep, smoking a cigarette. She sat in her car for a few minutes, mentally resolving to not let Richard back into her life because damn it, he was the one who chose to leave. Putting on her best poker face, she walked to her front door and said, "Hello, Richard."

He stubbed the cigarette out and jumped to his feet. His heart was thundering in his chest. "Avery." He moved forward to hug her, but she took a step back.

"What can I do for you?"

He flinched at the coldness in her voice. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Avery admitted. "But unless you're dying or are very close to being dead, go the fuck away."

"Does my soul slowing dying from missing you count?"

She shook her head. "I loved you with everything I had. Just because I didn't love you the way you wanted me to, that doesn't mean I didn't love you." She paused, realizing that her body was shaking in anger. "Do you have any idea what it feels like? To be told that you're just not enough?" She forced herself to unclench her fists. "Oh right, that's right. You and Claire broke up two weeks ago, after being together for three months." Avery rolled her eyes. "If you think I'd take you back after you made an apology... Then you're a disgusting excuse of a man. Go fuck yourself, Richard." She shoved past Richard and opened her front door. Richard caught the door with his foot, before she was able to slam it in his face.

"I made a mistake."

"No shit, Sherlock! And you have to live the consequences of your mistakes."

"Avery, please, hear me out."

"You have five minutes. I just got off a 16-hour shift and I have to be back at work in 6 hours."

Richard let himself into the foyer. He noticed that unlike her old apartment or when they had lived together, nothing was decorated. "I don't know anything about love. Even though I'm in my forties, I've never really had serious relationships. I thought that when you found the person who is the love of your life, the world would suddenly change. I thought all my doubts would disappear and everything would feel like it was always meant to be that way. Yeah, I know that relationships aren't easy, but I didn't think that I would still be curious about other women. We started drifting apart for no apparent reason and..."

Avery held up her hand and tapped on her watch. "Sure, I had crushes on my co-workers. A doctor who's very competent at his job is sexy. Yes, our relationship wasn't easy. But I believed in us. I knew not to throw away something I knew was good."

"Then you should know to take that same good thing back. Especially when it comes back begging."

Avery threw a punch, hard and sharp enough to give Richard a black eye. "Get out."

\---

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Avery looked up from the notes she was scribbling onto Mrs. McAllister's chart.  "Nothing, Mrs. McAllister. You've been managing your high blood pressure and CHF very well; I'm very proud of you."

The old woman frowned. "That's not what I meant." Avery frowned back at her. "I'm 72 years old, have been married to the same man for 35 of those years, and raised five children. I know heartbreak when I see it." Avery let out a small sigh, but didn't say anything back. "Tell me your story. Just this one time, let me help you heal."

Realizing that there was no way she was going to get out of the conversation without being rude by simply walking out of the room, Avery told Mrs. McAllister how Richard suddenly reappeared in her life last week. Avery told Mrs. McAllister about Richard's decision to leave her for another woman, and then how Richard came back after he and the other woman broke up. Avery told Mrs. McAllister how much it irked her that despite how much she hated Richard for leaving her, she still loved him. "I don't want to love him anymore," Avery said quietly, nervously playing with the chart in her hands.

"Sweetheart, no one is perfect. Even when you live as long as I have, you still don't have your life figured out." Mrs. McAllister reached out and clasped one of Avery's hands in both of her own. "Love is about giving the other person what they need most; he needed to figure some things out and because you love him, you let him go. You're right to be angry because he went about it in an extremely, very stupid way. But because you love him - don't make that face because I know you do - you should also forgive him and give him a second chance. The only thing that's preventing you from being happy is your own stubbornness." Mrs. McAllister smiled at Avery. "You also have to give him credit for being upfront with you, instead of having an affair. That kind of honesty means he cares a lot about you."

"Well, thank you for the advice Mrs. McAllister. Unfortunately, I have to see other patients and we can't discuss this further. But before I leave, are there any medical questions I can answer for you?" When Mrs. McAllister shook her head, Avery said, "Have a good afternoon," and hastily left the room.

\---

"What are you doing here?" Avery hissed at Richard at the American Heart Association's annual fundraising event's cocktail hour. "You can't just decide to corner me at one of my work functions because you know I can't leave!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "You've been helping to plan this event for the past year. In case you forgot, you invited me and I intend to follow through on the promises I made you then. My being here tonight isn't only about you and me." He tossed his drink back and exhaled forcefully, enjoying the burn in his throat. "It's good to see you too, Dr. Nguyen," he said sarcastically.

Avery's anger went out like a flame does when a wet blanket is thrown over it. She knew that Richard was right, and technically she was the one who approached him to start a confrontation. "Good to see you too, Mr. Armitage," she sheepishly. "I'm glad that you are here to support our cause."

"My pleasure. I know how important this is to you."

The two looked at each other in awkward silence. Avery turned on her heel to find someone else to talk to, but Richard caught her on the elbow. "Avery, I know you're still angry with me. But if you have some time tonight, I would like to talk to you. Please."

"I'll telling you right now that I'm not apologizing for punching you in the face. You deserved it."

Richard nodded. "Yes, I did. But that's not what I meant. I just want to talk to you... I still miss you."

"Okay." Avery nodded and left Richard standing there alone. She immediately brightened when she started socializing with other cardiologists and Richard wondered why he ever wanted to be without her. Richard didn't know if they were going to get back together, but he couldn't stop smiling at the glimmer of hope he had in his heart that at least they would be friends again.


	14. The Time They Almost Called it Quits, Part 2

 

_I miss Avery._

_Oh, shit._

_I miss her so fucking much._

Just as Richard was about to drift off to sleep, the thought came out of nowhere and jolted him wide awake. Richard's entire body flinched, as if he was struck by a sledgehammer in the solar plexus.

Claire lifted her head from Richard's shoulder, having felt him tense up beneath her. She gazed at him sleepily and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," Richard managed to say. "Just a weird twitch."

Except it wasn't a twitch at all. It was the sudden realization that he was still in love with Avery after three exciting months of being with Claire.  _It's normal, though,_ Richard told himself. He shook his head.  _Avery and I were together for three years. It's normal to have some residual feelings. I was just caught off guard because I hadn't thought about her in a while and in the context of being an ex-lover._  Richard rationalized his discomfort away until he fell into an uneasy asleep.

\---

Richard anxiously paced back and forth in Claire's living room, waiting for her to finish getting dressed. He was so focused on pacing that he didn't notice Claire right away. She came over to him and adjusted his tie. "What's bothering you?" she asked. She smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket.

Richard frowned at her. "Claire," he said after clearing his throat. "We need to talk. I can't go with you to your party anymore."

Claire took a step back and regarded him critically. Then, she slowly nodded and said in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You're breaking up with me." She gave him a gentle smile when he raised an eyebrow at her, clearly not expecting that reaction from her, she said, "I knew from the beginning that we weren't going to last. It was always Avery-this and Avery-that." She reached out and Richard took her hand in his. "You never stopped loving her."

"I'm sorry, Claire."

Claire shrugged. "It's okay. But you better hurry if you want to be on time for the American Heart Association event."

"The what?"

"I saw it in your calendar." She gave Richard's hands a tight squeeze before letting go. "Go." When Richard hesitated, she added, "I'm sad, but I'm not bitter."

Richard gave her a grateful smile and bolted out the door.

\---

"I'm sorry," Avery said when Richard came up to tell her he was leaving for the night. "I wasn't able to make time to have the conversation you wanted to have."

 _Bullshit_ , Richard thought.  _You've been avoiding me all night by making yourself incredibly busy_. "No, no. I understand. I'll text you in the morning?"

Avery nodded and said, "Take care," before her attention was quickly transferred to another high-ranking doctor who was taking his leave.

\---

_R: It was great seeing you last night._

_R: Are you free for dinner on Thursday?_

It was well after six hours before he got a reply text. Richard pounced on his phone, having waited all day for Avery to text him back.

_A: After 1930_

_R: Come over for dinner when you get off shift?_

_R: I can make that pasta you like_

_A: No_

_A: Pick a neutral location_

Richard frowned at his phone. _Well, this throws a wrench in my plans._  He didn't know how to reply to that and he couldn't think of an appropriate place at the moment. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone buzzed again; he mentally kicked himself for letting seven minutes pass since Avery's text.

_A: Text me the location_

When Richard did finally pick a place and texted Avery, she didn't respond.

\---

Richard waited outside the quirky, independent bookseller with two cups of coffee. "Here," he said, shoving a cup into Avery's hand as soon as she got there. "You're irascible when you're tired." Avery didn't argue the point because she knew it was true; she instead took a long drink and enjoyed the dark roast.

"Hi, Richard," Avery said when she was ready. "How are you?"

"Hi, Avery," Richard replied. "I'm doing well. Thanks for meeting me. Shall we go inside?" Richard held the door open and followed Avery inside the building.  _She's so beautiful and utilitarian in those navy blue scrubs and that black fleece zip-up. I think that's the one I bought her  when I found out there was a hole in the pocket of her old one._

For the first ten minutes, they browsed the aisles in silence. Richard didn't know how to address the reason why they were there, and he didn't want to spoil the elation he felt at being around Avery again.  _But she's waiting for me to engage first._ A book caught Richard's eye and he pointed it out to Avery. "Have you read this?" he asked.

When she shook her head, Richard was more than happy to recommend it to her. They fell into an easy conversation about books they've recently read and about books they were planning on reading.

"So... what happened with Claire?" Avery asked without look up from the cart of discount books at the end of the row.

"Nothing."

She shook her head. "If nothing happened, then we wouldn't be here awkwardly trying to figure out if we can pick up the pieces of our relationship."

"That's the thing: nothing happened. Yes, I really liked having Claire around all the time. She gave me all the things you couldn't; it was nice having someone to come home to every night and to go with me to all my work functions and to pick out my clothes. And she sent me confirmation texts, letting me know that she got mine.

"But the things she gave me... Those were things I wanted. I realized that the things you gave me were the things I needed. You have such a low tolerance for bullshit; you are always challenging me and I'm always learning; you pay attention to the small details. I had fun with Claire, but I love you."

Richard reached across and placed his hand on top of Avery's. She finally looked up and met his eyes. "Fuck, I love you so much, Avery."  _Please believe me_ , Richard silently pleaded. _You have to believe me._

"I fucking wish I didn't love you as much as I do," Avery finally replied. "It makes it hard for me to stay angry with you, even though I know I have every right to be." Richard's breath caught in his throat; he could feel tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes because he was flooded with relief. "I can't guarantee I'll ever fully forgive you," she continued, "but I will try."

"I promise you I will make it worth the effort." Richard turned to  walk back down the aisle and grab the book he first pointed out. "First, I'm going to buy this book because you really should read it. Then, we're going to get something to eat. I can tell you've lost weight and I know you can't resist the best shawarma in town."

Avery nodded. "I'd like that."

 


	15. Chapter 15

Richard was rather pleased with himself for remembering to buy nail polish remover. He had been meaning to purchase some for the past few weeks after a package of permanent markers exploded all over the dining table, leaving ugly black stains.

“I’m home!” he announced, making his way to the kitchen.

He was so wrapped up in the small victory of finally rubbing out the stains that he didn’t notice Avery right away.

“And the avocados?”

“What?”

“The avocados,” she repeated. She came up behind Richard, wrapped her arms around his neck, and placed her head on top of his. “The table looks nice, by the way. My eyes no longer hurt just from looking at it.”

Richard’s good mood suddenly evaporated. He had also been pestering Avery about making her popular salsa and guacamole for a friend’s part that weekend. She had agreed on the stipulation he acquired all the ingredients for her. She was on-call at the hospital the whole week and didn't have the energy to act like a normal functioning human in public.

“I’m sorry,” Richard apologized. He turned his head to look at Avery and she gave him a soft smile. “I went to a different grocery store on my way home and I was disoriented.” He dropped his gaze back to the table. “And I was little distracted.”

Avery shrugged. “Better hurry and finish this, and then get yourself back to the store.”


End file.
